Psycho
by BooLoo2
Summary: Jazz is a less than stable criminal, and Prowl is an upstart enforcer determined to stop him. However, life, and Jazz's unusual quirks, has other plans for the young enforcer. Slash.
1. Boredom

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**Warnings:** Unbated. Also, anything and everything goes in this story, so be warned.

**Pairing:** Jazz/Prowl

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** Jazz is a less than stable criminal, and Prowl is an upstart enforcer determined to stop him. However, life, and Jazz's unusual quirks, has other plans for the young enforcer. Slash.

**Author's Note:** Well, since I finished '_Simple Collection of Poems_', I've decided to write this for my own guilty pleasures. Hope it pleases you all as much as it does me!

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 1: Boredom**

* * *

_9-1-1 emergencies, this is the Iacon Enforcers Headquarters. What is the nature of your emergency?_

_Well, ya see mist'a offic'a, sir. I jus' so happen ta have a bomb strapped ta meh chassis an' am awfully bored all by meh lonesome here. Pe'haps yer mechs can remed'e dat._

_Sir, please remain calm. Just give me your location and-_

_Ah, it's startin' ta click nice n' steady if ya know what ah mean. See ya lat'a…_

_Sir? Sir? Are you still there?_

Nothing.

The enforcer at the message terminal turned a concerned look to his chief, hesitancy clear in his posture. "Orders, sir."

The older mech frowned deeply, hands tightening to fists. "It's him."

A chill of unease swept through the enforcer headquarters at that, knowing what that meant.

The chief put a hand to his helm, issuing the awaited command. "Get everyone available ready to depart immediately. We need to stop this psychopath before he offlines someone."

_Yes, sir._

* * *

A series of explosions rocked the spiraling towers to their bases, causing them to sway dangerously above oncoming traffic and a terrified public below. Sirens filled the air as a flash of silver darted across the uppermost levels of the gleaming towers, darting down level by level with the grace unseen by enforcers for many vorns.

A smooth voice reached the enforcers gathered below, delight ringing rhythmically in that beautiful voice. "Gimme ya bes' shot, enforca's. Ya can't catch da Meista'." And in a flash he landed soundlessly upon the crowded street, gliding away as smoothly as organic silk with naught an ounce of effort.

Immediately the enforcers were in pursuit, tailing him as closely as they dare with an explosive strapped snuggly to his undercarriage, he laughing gleefully the entire way. With their options limited and their target obviously not of a sound processor, the enforcers hung back with uncertainty, weighting their alternatives.

"All 'round Iacon, enforcers chased da Meista'. Da Meisa' knew it was all 'n fun. Boom went Iacon." The bot sang, blasting his stereo at full volume, his entire chassis seeming to vibrate with the sheer power of it.

The bomb on his chassis ticked ominously, its rhythm becoming ever faster as the music forcefully shook its restraints. The silver bot crackled again, swerving this way and that across the intersections, just narrowly avoiding a head-on collision.

The enforcers called for back up. The roads were cleared.

It was not long until over thirty Iacon enforcers were closely following the self proclaimed Meister, their sirens wailing just over the silver mech's music and lights flashing endlessly along the finely paved streets. Overhead, three rotary bots circled, hovering dangerously close to the action with their cameras at the ready and commands for the silver bot to stop screaming from high-set speakerphones.

The silver bot dared a side wheelie for the watching cameras, shaking his side mirror tauntingly as he did so.

One enforcer attempted to close the gap, speeding up to pull beside the silver bot. However, just as he managed to line himself up for a side tackle that would finally take the bot down, the bot swerved hard to the right, putting himself front bumper to front bumper with the shocked enforcer. The enforcer staggered a bit in alarm.

The silver bot touched bumpers with the stunned enforcer for a brief moment before whispering. "Ah love a bot in uniform." At that, the enforcer fell back to settle uneasily behind his comrades, his plating vibrating in embarrassment.

Meister laughed, flashing the bomb on his undercarriage meaningfully. The ticking suddenly ceased, numbers beginning to shine forth.

"Been a blast seein' ya bright, shinin' faces-" He called back to the enforcers, beginning to pick up speed. "-but ah got a schedual ta keep. Keep it real."

The bomb dropped in an instant, the enforcers dove to the side to avoid the coming explosion, and the silver bot got away, laughing that musical laugh as he transformed to bi-pedal mode and disappeared into a drainage ditch not far from the freeway with a well-timed leap.

For some time there was nothing, no explosion or unsightly occurrence, and the enforcers finally moved forward to investigate. At the sight that greeted them, some of the enforcers howled in frustration, others stared on in morbid curiosity.

Flashing in bright letters across the number screen, a message.

_Meister- 3: Enforcers- 0_

_Ah'm bored. Time ta up da ante._

At the ominously familiar sight, the chief enforcer looked to the bot to his right. "Stoplight, call Headquarters."

The bomb suddenly explodes as a curious young, rookie enforcer takes the liberty of picking it up to further examine the _dud_ before he can be told otherwise, spraying all enforcers present with a foul smelling residue.

The chief is unamused as he wipes the substance from his face. "Get Praxus on the line."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Sir?" The young enforcer inquires softly, though his voice is as calculated and controlled as usual, gaining a slight raise of a brow ridge from his captain. "With all due respect, I don't believe I am suited for such a case. I've only just graduated from the academy and if this fugitive is as talented as rumor says than I do not believe I possess the experience needed to bring him to justice."

The captain shook his helm fondly, giving his subordinate an appraising look. "Prowl, despite your lack of field experience your work in criminal analyses and tactical planning is not to be over looked." A knowing smile graced the captain's expression, hidden just beneath his ever-cool exterior. "You are highly recommended."

Prowl looked surprised at that, at a loss for words, but the captain just raised his brow ridge further, amusement clear across his features.

Prowl finally managed to find his voice a moment later. "I thank you for this opportunity, sir. I will not discredit the praxian enforcers nor will I betray your trust. I will do my best."

A light chuckle from the captain, rare, but not unpleasant. "Of course, Prowl. Now head home and get some rest. You leave in thirteen joors."

The young enforcer looked unsettled by this. "But, sir. I could leave immediately and-"

The captain held up a hand for silence, and Prowl quickly obeyed. "While I understand your need to be punctual in such matters, I must warn you that the moment you report to the Iacon Enforcers Headquarters you will be immediately put to work." A pointed look to the young enforcer kept Prowl from interrupting. " And you have already pulled three shifts beforehand, despite medic's orders to maintain a two shift cycle."

Prowl's doorwings drooped slightly, optics apologetic. "Apologies, sir."

The Captain shook his helm. "Think nothing of it, Prowl. Now get some rest."

"Yes, sir." Prowl saluted, posture a bit too perfect in the captain's opinion, and promptly left to fulfill his captain's orders.

Once alone, the captain leaned back in his seat and gave a fond chuckle. "You still have so much to learn, but in truth-" His optics shuttered and he smiled, letting himself become lost in his work. "The enforcers need a bot like you."

* * *

From a high-risen ledge not so far from the Enforcer's Headquarters, white, piercing optics gazed down from behind a diamond-sharp visor with interest as a line of enforcers bearing the praxian symbol lined neatly before the front entrance, each giving a routine bow as the station's chief came to greet them. Pleasantries were exchanged and the enforcers all began filing into the building with practiced precision.

A single enforcer cast a curious look back to the city, his light blue optics casting a calculating glance along the finely kept streets and well maintained sky rises of Iacon, face so serious despite his obvious youth. With a frown, the young enforcer finally tore his optics from the city and entered the building, posture perfect and gaze forward.

Such a young enforcer he was, but with so much potential hidden just beneath.

"So those are da bots sent ta take meh out, hn." His visor flashed, a grin splitting cross his face, an expression unnaturally sinister in design. "This is gonna be fun."

He fingered the data files in his clawed hand, dark chuckle filling the void of his lair as he disappeared into the shadows.

"Really fun."

* * *

**AN:** I regret nothing! Should this be continued?

**Please review…**


	2. Frustration

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN:** Wow! Just wow! I post up this story expecting maybe two or three reviews and a couple follows, and suddenly my inbox is overflowing with support for the story. Much love to you all. It would seem I'm not the only one who loves Criminal!Jazz/Enforcer!Prowl. This pleases me. Thank you all so much!

**SN:** Yes, Prowl is new to the enforcers, but he is not at all stupid or lacking. Yes, he is young, but not in a bad way, it just means there's room for character development. So if you mean noob as in prone to obvious mistakes and endless questions which were explained not three minutes ago, than I agree that such interpretations of Prowl's character does not settle well with me, but if you mean noob as in young or new to the system, there's nothing I can do for that. Sorry. Hope you enjoy the story anyway. ^_^

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 2: Frustration**

* * *

Deadly claws click delicately against a data pad's gleaming screen with nimble grace, and though the sight of such finely crafted weapons being used for tasks so domestic in nature seemed preposterous, the bots standing some distance away from the prowling bot wisely chose not to point this out to the Meister. If there was one thing they knew, it was that he was deranged in ways they dare not fathom.

Simply put, even the sharp-opticed shadows of the underground knew it was best to just let the silver menace be.

Beneath that crystalline white visor, curious optics roamed the contents of the data pad, expectant and oddly hopeful. Neatly organized files flashed forth for the bot's inspection, but with each passing face upon the screen, the silver bot seemed only to fall further and further into one of his infamous moods.

That shift in atmosphere quickly settled heavily within the room, and the two bots standing silently to the other side of the darkened apartment tensed at the feel of it. It all but crawled down their spinal columns, settling uneasily in their tanks.

Suddenly, the pad was sent viciously across the room, just barely missing the two bots as they flinched away when the realization of what had just occurred registered in their processors. They turned frightened stares to the raging bot.

"Is dat all d'ay got? How can dat be it?" He turned his crazed gaze on his company, taking a step in their direction as he tightened his hands to fists, so tight that energon began to leak from one side to the floor in a trail of hazy blue. "Do ya have any idea how long ah've been waitin' for dis moment?"

The cornered bots stiffened as the other approached in slow, predatory strides, his white stare like death as he watched them with those wild optics of his. But they knew not to move, no to make a sound, and how could they not know this when there had once been three standing in their corner not so long ago.

"Are ya tryin' ta hold out on meh?" The silver bot moved in closer, putting his face unbearably close to the bot with blue optics. "Are ya pe'haps tryin' ta protect someone? Ya know ah don' like dat."

Those blue optics wavered, fear reflecting clearly to the bot before him.

"No- no, sir." The blue-opticed bot stumbled out, systems working so frantically he feared the silver one would hear it and become further enraged by it. "That was the most up-to-date list of all the enforcers stationed at Iacon Enforcers Headquarters. Everyone was listed, I swear."

White optics narrowed behind that obscuring visor, before an intense stare was sent to the black-plated bot to his left.

The Meiser raised an optic ridge in assurance, and the dark-plated bot added cautiously. "It was processed just this cycle, sir." A slight shudder coursed through the dark-plated bot's frame, and the silver bot took notice.

A playful grin suddenly broke loose across the Meister's face, and he clasped the blue-opticed bot's shoulder cheerfully with his good hand. "Chill, meh mechs. Ah was only jokin'." And he laughed, that deep musical laugh as he shook the congealing energon from his still bleeding wound. "Now come on an' help meh find somethin' to patch dis up 'fore ah bleed out. An' stop callin' meh sir. It's kinda weird."

Both bots gave the silver bot a hesitant nod before setting about to search the apartment.

As an afterthought, the silver bot added. "Oh yeah, an' good job. Ah knew ah could count on ya both."

Somehow, the two bots did not feel at all that honored by the praise.

* * *

Three cycles at the Iacon base, and Prowl was frustrated. Not because of the work load, nor the fact that his recent arrival to a new base and the prejudice against his young age had put him to the sidelines of things, but simply because of the utter lack of organization the Iacon enforcers seemed to have.

Logically, Prowl knew it was simply due to his own bias- being who he was- and having worked under a like-minded captain from the beginning, but it still irritated him to watch more experienced mechs making errors that could have been easily avoided. However, he remained silent for the most part, still conscious of how unfavorably older bots tended to look upon upstarts who claimed to know how to run things better.

He had been at a lost as to what to do. Speak up and risk threatening the relationship between the Praxian and Iacon enforcers, or remain silent and let these errors continue.

He'd even contacted his captain back in Praxus and asked his advise on the matter. Much to Prowl's further frustration though, the older bot simply gave a small hn and told him, and he quotes, "_It's your call. You've got a good processor on your shoulders. Use it._".

While Prowl was well aware of this fact from the beginning- not being conceited, but Prowl knew he was one of the best to have even been brought out of the academy- he had still been uncertain if he should take the risk.

_Your call_, his captain had told him.

Prowl had the sneaking suspicion he liked that idea a little too much for his own good.

However, despite the discomfort of this newfound control, Prowl's choice was practically made the moment those words had graced his audio receptors.

Scorn from his superiors he could deal with, even discrimination from the other enforcers, the endangerment of innocents due to the recklessness of one unsound bot and a station of disorganized enforcers however, he could not.

Approaching the chief of the Iacon enforcers, even with an entire posse of seasoned enforcers surrounding him discussing their next course of action, seemed ridiculously easy now that he had his captain's blessing. This also unnerved Prowl for a brief moment, but he quickly dismissed it, setting his processor to the goal at hand. Improve efficiency.

His entire being seemed to scream for joy at the thought.

"Sir." Prowl addressed when he saw an appropriate opening, being sure to use his most respectful tone and posture.

The captain turned an appraising look to the young enforcer, and Prowl noted the irritated expression hidden just beneath a few of the advising enforcer's optics. Though this did not affect him so much since he was expecting it, it still stung. However, he remained unmoved in his resolve and when the chief nodded his helm as the go-a-head he pushed forward.

"I've been observing the progress of this case and have noticed some points of error in its inner workings. I have taken the liberty of finding alternative solutions with the use of my battle-computer to remedy this and ask an audience with the staff to discuss possible improvement."

The captain seemed to ponder this, optics hard as steel, despite the tired weight in them, and lips set in a stern frown.

Prowl noted the slight twitch of one of the other advising enforcer's hand and the sudden stiffness of his posture. The just there frown on his lips also did not go unnoticed.

Prowl recognized him immediately as the bot in charge of organizing staff to their assigned positions and monitoring time management.

_Offended_, Prowl thought with a venomous he'd tried hard not to acknowledge the last few cycles, _I would be_. And despite this sudden break in protocol by disrespecting a superior, even in thought, Prowl could not bring himself to regret it.

Suddenly, the chief turned a hardened look to the tense staff organizer. "Roadblock, why was I not informed that one of our new operative's was in possession of a battle-computer?" His optics narrowed, growing darker by each passing moment.

A just barely noticeable pause from the bot being suddenly addressed did not go unnoticed. "I did not think it important, sir. Bots his age usually do not learn to properly employ their battle-computers until later on in their functioning."

Prowl frowned at the folly of his words and suspicion took root in his processors. Apparently, he was not the only one to notice the absurdity in the others speech.

"We will discuss this in length later, Roadblock." The chief jerked his helm pointedly to the office doors. "And I expect an explanation for your lack of judgment." Something more than _lack of judgment_ was meant by this, but that remained unsaid.

A tint of something dark flashed in his blue optics, some emotion more than defiance, before it was quickly hidden away, but Roadblock conceded to his chief's orders nonetheless. "Yes, sir."

The gathered group of enforcers watched as the blue-opticed bot entered the office with brisk, determined strides and disappeared from sight, leaving an uncomfortable silent throughout the room.

It was the chief who broke that silence.

"What is your designation, boy?" He asked seriously, appraising the young bot anew with a keen interest not so unkind in nature.

Prowl did not hesitate in reply. "My designation is Prowl, sir, and I am an enforcer of Praxus under Captain Clearview."

A look of surprise crossed the chief's expression. "So you're the upstart Clearview's been going on about." He looked mildly pleased by this information, yet still as stern as ever.

If Prowl was surprised by this he did not let it show, though his spark swelled with pride at the thought.

A rough but firm hand clasped Prowl's shoulder, and Prowl did not find he was as appose to the contact as he would have thought he'd be. "Come, let us see if you meet the high expectations your Captain has of you."

"Of course, sir. I will do my best."

* * *

**AN:** Now one can see a little bit more into the psyches of Jazz and Prowl, as well as some possible routes their character development may go. Once more, I regret nothing!

**Please review…**


	3. Problems

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN:** You guys are just hounding on the reviews like- like frosting on a cake! I love it! So much in fact that I was especially motivated to get this chapter up ASAP since I had some spare time! Much love to you all!

**SN:** Thank you so much for the offer, but I'm not sure if having a beta is the best thing for me because I have a weird tendency of second guessing myself if I don't post up a chapter near the moment it's done. I sometimes end up trashing the chapter and starting it over. Plus, the effort it takes to send DocXs everywhere. Sadly, I'm a very lazy bugger. But thank you and I hope you're enjoying the story anyway!

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 3: Problems**

* * *

Clawed hands came up to cradle the silver helm hung lowly in unexpected mourning, the entire posture of the slim, silver bot slumped over in a rare show of weariness that did not fit a character so flamboyant as the Meister. It was rather terrifying to watch, and the darkly armored bot standing silently to the other end of the room found himself unnerved by the sudden shift in his _boss's_ emotional state.

He shifted unconsciously to ease the tension in his frame from having been standing still for so long in such a tense atmosphere, inadvertently drawing the other's attention.

White, unreadable optics turned on his company.

"Ya won't leave meh, will ya Nightwatch?" From anyone else that would have been a plea for reassurance and comfort, but the voice which escaped the silver bot was too cold, so, so cold, and his optics dark and dangerous. The Meister moved closer to Nightwatch, coming uncomfortably into the dark bot's personal space. "Ah don't like bein' alone. No, ah don't like dat at all."

A small, forced smile made it's way across Nightwatch's face. "I know, and I have no intention of leaving you." And he hesitated, unsure whether the silver one's silent gaze was the go ahead to continue, or a command to shut the frag up. He continued nonetheless on a calculated risk. "It was only under insinuating circumstances that Roadblock chose to take his own spark. Had he not, he risked reveling your true intentions under interrogation."

The silver bot suddenly tilted his helm in curiously, a twisted parody of innocence. "An' dat would be bad how?"

Confused, and more than a little uneasy, Nightwatch opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as a clawed fingers wrapped meaningfully around the back of the dark bot's neck.

That gentle hand brought him closer, his forehelm almost touching that of the Meister. "Tell meh of da circumstances dat led ta his capt'a. Hacked by a und'acover, slipped up while ov'acharged, or maybe he fin'lly cracked knowin' I'm da only one who knows he us'ta work da und'aground scene an' he belongs ta me 'cause of it."

A distinct flash of fear crossed Nightwatch's optics as those sharp claws dug deeper into the sensitive cables of his neck.

"Ah don't like lie'as, Nightwatch."

The claws tightened.

Nightwatch panicked when a nick of pain registered on his sensory net. "It was that upstart, the one with the doorwings and red chevron! He noticed inconsistencies in staff organization and-"

"Da little one?" The claws loosened just a bit.

The fact that the silver bot was shorter than near all the praxian enforcers on base made his question near impossible to answer, but luckily, Nightwatch understood what he meant.

"Yes. It was not intentional, but he managed to weed Roadblock out as the flaw in the system."

The Meister released his hold completely, stepping back to better assess his companion. A pleased grin graced his lips.

Nightwatch shifted under the scrutiny, uneasy, unsure of what to make of this abrupt change in expression. He was not sure if this was a good sign, or a warning to back away.

Nightwatch barely managed to catch himself from jolting in shock when he was suddenly encased in a tight embrace.

"Tell meh 'bout him. Wat's he like?"

Confused, but willing to comply if it meant staying in his _boss's_ good graces, Nightwatch only hesitated a moment before he spoke. "Well respected by the praxian unit. Graduated top of his class at-"

The silver bot frowned. "No! Ah already read dat in his file. Wat's he like ta be with?"

Quickly, Nightwatch corrected his mistake. "Quiet, respectful, and very professional in his speech. He's very by-the-book." At the Meister's expectant look, Nightwatch continued. "His expression doesn't change much. He seems- very cold and indifferent to the rest of his colleagues."

Silence. Nightwatch was afraid he'd said something he shouldn't have.

He waited tensely for those wicked claws to tear mercilessly into his vulnerable plating.

"He's perfect."

A shocked expression flitted across the dark bot's expression at this, but luckily, the silver one had already turned away to retrieve something from the table near the back of the room and did not witness it.

It was a patch kit.

"Come here an' let meh patch ya up."

It was then Nightwatch noticed the thin trail of energon leaking down his neck.

* * *

"Attention seeking behavior and an obvious need for outside contact, be it by freewill or necessity, as clearly observed in his numerous provocations of the enforcers despite having individuals working under him."

Prowl clicked a few vid-files in his data pad, bringing up past recordings of encounters with the silver bot in question for the gathered enforcer's viewing.

"His behavior pattern suggests he is seeking not only- hn, enjoyment from these activities, but also fulfillment to needs perhaps not met by others in his circle of acquaintances." Prowl paused briefly, making sure he still held his audience's attention. "This is most clearly seen in his attempts to draw out the best of given fields of expertise, especially those regarding tactics and planning."

"You mean like a strategy game of sorts." One of the gathered enforcers questioned.

Prowl nodded. "Exactly. Given his past behavior and activities, I believe he is looking for a suitable opponent to match his skills in strategical planning. An equal if you will, for his own amusement. As he has stated many times before in recorded conversations, he is a bot looking to curb the edge off his- boredom."

"Simple boredom. Surely there is more to it than that. He must have something to gain in all this."

"That possibility has also been considered, but until we have more evidence on his agenda we cannot accurately predict possible motives outside analyses of his past behaviors. However-" The young enforcer brought up a photo of the recently offlined Roadblock's frame. "I have been composing a possible list of psychological disorders that may be fueling his actions, one being bipolar disorder. His behavior with the enforcers suggests a bot especially sociable by nature, however, recent injuries not recorded as acquired in the line of duty on Roadblock's frame, which looked to had been almost immediately tended to after their acquirement, implies a level of intolerance to the company of others, yet a decided mercy after having inflicted potentially fatal wounds."

A close-up of one of the weldings was shown.

"As the pattern of the welding suggests, this was not done by the hands of an enforcer, since all enforcer units, no matter the location, are trained to administer the welding patches as a cross angle to ensure durability. As seen, the weld pattern is off center, suggesting inexperience, but it was also well fitted, which comes from a significant amount of time being put into applying the replacement metal. This hints at a curtain amount of care, be it benevolent or practical, being put into the restoration of these injures. However, this hypothesis is not concrete due to the possibility of outside influences having placed the welding patches."

A medic seated to the side of the room verified the claim, and with that Prowl continued.

"Another disorder that may be present in the Meister may be separation anxiety. Though the tactic of keeping individuals under authority via the use of blackmail is not unusual for a bot in his particular field of illegal activity, his persistence in keeping them despite past grievances suggests a certain amount of dependence on their particular presences. As found on Roadblock, the tracker which had been installed into his processing unit shows signs as having been forcibly removed on numerous occasions, as well as replaced in even less accessible components than the last."

Prowl then turned to his seniors, face grim in cold seriousness.

"Sir, if this bot truly has his optics set on the enforcers attentions, and he has lost his inside mech knowing there was that risk, as the memory swiping virus located within the tracker suggests, than it would only stand to reason that he would have more than one undercover agent working for him amongst the enforcers. I suggest an entire sweep of the enforcer headquarters, specifically in search of recent injures welded with the same design pattern as those found on Roadblock."

The chief gave Prowl a measured stare, hard optics searching the younger for signs of hesitancy, of doubt. He found none.

"Prowl." The chief began seriously, coldly. "You understand the magnitude of what you are suggesting?"

"_It's your call. You've got a good processor on your shoulders. Use it._".

…_your call._

"Yes, sir." Prowl met the chief's gaze evenly, before sweeping that gaze across the entirety of the gathered enforcer ranks. "There maybe more traitors within our ranks."

* * *

**AN:** Prowl, you are kickaft! Be proud and show off that nerdy skillage. And Jazz, you have some issues, but I love you anyway.

**Please review…**


	4. Unease

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN:** Here we go, the next chapter, and just let me tell you, the reviews- awesomeness! I'm all fluttery inside from all the support. Thank you all so much!

**SN:** Worry not, for there is method to the madness- or lack of in-depth emotional description. The emotion overload is coming, just not quite yet, I'm going to try to ease into it. I am actually using this particular writing style to engage the readers in the joys of doing self character analysis and then comparing their thoughts the actual development. Hope you're enjoying it anyway.

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 4: Unease**

* * *

There'd been a traitor, as Prowl predicted, and though many had become solely focused on the suspicions that there were more, Prowl could feel the chill of unease that there was more to all this than he'd first expected, something that hit a far too close to home. It made his recharges a bit less restful and his waking joors a thing of anxiety, but he was a mech of facts and logic, so he dismissed those feelings- for the most part.

Nightwatch had been the traitor, and though he'd escaped before he could be detained for interrogation, he'd left behind an unsettling message.

_Beware the madmech's smile._

It had been a most discerning look into the dynamics of the Meister's relationship with his subordinate, and the place in which it had been found, even more so; the praxian enforcer's accommodations.

Was it a message intended to intimidate Prowl, the mech newly appointed head advisor of the case? Or a warning from an enforcer who'd been forced into servitude by the whims of a madmech? Or even just another game the Meister had setup for his own amusement?

So many possible motives, but for reasons that Prowl couldn't describe- others would call it gut instinct, Prowl thought that illogical and unreliable- he did not believe this was any of those- not really. Though it being a game and warning didn't sound all that off either.

A game. A game. A game.

But what's the prize? There must be something besides amusement that has led the Meister to create such an elaborate game of provoke and pursue, for despite his obvious love of the chase, the efficiency in which the silver bot worked and operated suggested an individual who had higher functioning skills than previously thought.

Contrary to popular belief, insane does not equal unintelligent. This was important to understand in Prowl's line of work.

With a flick of his wing, the praxian got back to work strategizing the course of action for their coming encounter with the Meister. The encounter was overdue, and this, more than anything, had the enforcers tense.

_Ah'm bored. Time ta up da ante._

What could he possibly be planning, with a message like that?

He was mostly done with the preparation, and though he still found the plan lacking due to the shortage of information to be found on the silver bot, it was still very efficient in its design.

The city had been divided into 60 sections, each with a particular signal to be evacuated at a moments notice, with officers standing by at all times for the signal. All possible escape routes had been marked, both on the road and not, as well as the speeds a bot of the Meister's frame type would need to make it off the road and to said escape routes, so his moves could be more accurately predicted. Sensors were set to recognize the silver bot's spark signature and release road spikes at key locations in each area when triggered.

In the end, Prowl was rather confident that he could at least complete his primary goal.

Make contact with the bot.

And find out just what he was really dealing with.

* * *

_9-1-1 emergencies, this is the Iacon Enforcers Headquarters. What is the nature of your emergency?_

_Hello again, mist'a offic'a. Jus' seein' if Nightwatch's is still 'round. Haven't seen him in a while._

The terminal operator quickly reeled back and contacted his chief via comm. _Sir, the Meister is on the line now! He-_

A scream was heard in the background, the squeal of metal twisting at unnatural angles made the young terminal officer cringe in shock at the morbid implications.

_Sorry 'bout dat. Ya were off elsewhere, so ah had ta entertain mehself. Please, don't stop on meh account._

_Speeddial, what's going on? Speeddial?_ The Chief bellowed in impatience.

_See ya soon. Say bye, lil' guy._

Another scream, a plea, and the link cut out.

Speeddial snapped out of his stunned silence with a start. _Hostage situation. The Meister has a hostage!_

No sooner had he said that, the whole base was thrown into chaos.

The alarms were still ringing as the enforcers flooded from the base.

* * *

"Ah'm bored." The Meister looked down at the writhing microbot in his grasp, watching with dark fascination as the little thing spasmed in pain, gripping uselessly at the silver bot's claws.

In a show of something resembling mercy, the silver bot reach to the microbot's twisted leg and jerked it back in place. It eased some of the pressure that'd been building in the bot's leg hydraulics, but caused the little thing to cry out again at the sharp sting of agony.

"Da enforc'as should be here soon, den yer free ta go." The silver bot assured, though that was little consolation to the injured and panicked microbot.

The bot look up to the clearly insane mech with pained, frightened optics. "What-t's wrong with y-you?"

The silver bot shrugged. "Don't know. Jus' onlined dis way ah guess. Think ah got it from meh carrier." The bot put his face uncomfortably close to that of his captive's, mouth twisted downward in a slightly troubled frown. "Nightwatch said dere was somethin' wrong with meh too."

Confused, and further frenzied to get away from this bot, the little mech was about to stumble out a plea to be released, but the white-visored mech suddenly bolted to his feet, jolting the little bot in his grasp. "They're here!"

He seemed much too excited about the prospect.

The enforcers were quick to transform into mech mode and take up their position around the silver mech, and the Meister took note of the professional orderliness of their formation; a nice, clean, but purposely mis-angled line.

Praxian enforcers. There was simply nothing more magnificent than watching praxian enforcers taking a stand to protect innocent civilians.

It- made the Meister's spark swell with something warm and addicting.

_Release the civilian and put your hands where we can see them. I repeat. Release the civilian and put your hands where we can see them._ The enforcer's announcer called out to the bot standing before them, the others raising their weapons to the ready.

"Here ya go." And with that the Meister released the microbot.

The little bot bolted away from his larger captor as fast as his compromised limb would allow, quickly taking refuge behind the enforcer line. An older officer with medical experience saw to him immediately.

Hostage safe, fortunately without as much trouble as they'd thought, the enforcers then turned to the task of dealing with the silver menace.

_Put your hand where we can see them._

The silver bot waved, smirk firmly in place.

Smartaft…

And off he went in a blurr of silver and the screech of tires.

The enforcers gave chase.

* * *

Sections 24 and 25 had been cut off, but somehow the silver threat had managed to get through the road spikes without skipping a beat. The section 26 officers had seen the silver bot make a break for a broken drain tunnel and set an ambush, but even with the enforcers laying in wait at the end, he'd somehow disappeared, only to reappear in section 17.

Things weren't going as planned, but still, Prowl was not to be swayed from his goal.

He sped down the highway, heading for the Meister's last known location.

He had to make contact with this less than sound bot. He simply could not plan an effective strategy of capture if he did not know what he was dealing with first hand.

Usually, this would not be a problem, since most bots he planned to capture were relatively _sane_ and had obvious motives for the crimes they did. They could easily be manipulated into capture, but this bot-

How does one capture a bot who seeks neither wealth nor status, who finds joy in the chase but always seems to be searching for more, who will not be satisfied with his own successes. A bot who will not be contented and yet never seems to be wanting for anything but attention, and if his past actions clearly shows, ignoring him is not an option.

With a sharp turn, he crossed into section 15.

What could Prowl possibly use to lure this bot, who did so much yet revealed so little, into a trap?

He had to know, failure was not an option for him.

…_your call._

Clearview had put his trust in him, more than Prowl could have ever hoped for from the bot he so admired and respected. He'd made a promise.

_I will not discredit the Praxian enforcers nor will I betray your trust._

He'd said that. The first promise he'd made to his commander, not as an enforcer pledging to uphold the law, but as Prowl, who for the first time had been had been trusted to do more than push papers and make plans. Now, that promise was only further concreted with the newfound freedom to choose his own actions, given to him by that very bot.

A blimp in his sensors, the sound of a roaring engine, and Prowl just managed to swerve at the last moment as a flash of silver zoomed pass him.

No time to be stilled by the shock. He had a duty to complete.

Prowl immediately gave chase, coming up right beside the silver bot.

"Pull over. You are under arrest." Prowl called, moving into position to intercept the speeding bot.

Incredibly, the silver bot did just that, transforming at near top speed to land gracefully on the road, lighting sparks as his peds scrapped across the asphalt. Shocked by the abruptness of it, Prowl almost didn't manage to stop on time.

There was silence when Prowl finally came to stop before the other, transforming to stand face to face with the smaller mech.

He drew his weapon, taking the classic praxian enforcer stance, wings flared and hands holding the gun steady before him.

"Meister, you are under arrest for the endangerment of civilians, the destruction of property, and resisting arrest."

The silver bot just stared at him, an unwavering, intense stare that bordered on an expression Prowl could not identify, visor giving an eerie quality to that already haunting gaze. Somewhere in the back of Prowl's processor, he felt a particular brand of fear rear it's monstrous head.

The feeling was back with a vengeance.

What escaped the bot's mouth, was not what Prowl had been expecting.

"Ya look jus' like him."

And the silver bot smiled, a true, terrifying smile.

* * *

**AN:** They meet! Dun, dun, dun. Jazzy! Why you so creepy!? Stop making poor Prowler uncomfortable, and Prowl- poor baby.

**Please review…**


	5. Meeting

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN:** It's been a while, but thank you all those who have reviewed and I'm so happy you all like this story so far. I've been sick lately, and your reviews really cheer me up! Please enjoy, and I hope it's still interesting, because I know that stories like this can go from interesting to cheesy and repetitive very quickly. Please warn me if it starts to veer in that direction.

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 5: Meeting**

* * *

The Meister's gaze remained steady, even as the enforcer's expression began to contort to something resembling perturbed confusion, optics dimming just so in weary assessment. Calculating, observing, thinking, planning, and the silver bot craved it, such seriousness, such focus, such intensity.

_His face._ The Meister thought distantly, something warm and lush heating his systems and quickening the pulsing of his spark. _His stance. His expression. Just like that one time._

A brief memory flickered through the silver bot's mind, vivid and unchanging, a memory long treasured and heavily guarded coming to him once more, a flash of clarity in a past shrouded in pain. The vision of a face, so stern and determination, azure optics dimmed in calculation, and sweet words of comfort to a sparkling that knew nothing of kindness.

_Just like him. He looks just like him._ A moment of further observation. _Almost, his face is too young yet._ But this slight differ in appearance would not sway him, not after so long of searching.

The silver bot knew something was wrong with him, with these thoughts he had, had known for a long time, had known that this obsession wasn't healthy, wasn't natural. But what could he do? What could he do against himself?

_Nothin'. Ah can do nothin'._ He tells himself, and he looks into those calculating optics, feeling the fluttering of his spark. _But enjoy it._

And why would he want to change, when he's having so much fun?

"Now, now, lil' praxian." The silver bot hummed, voice low and supple, like a lullaby, as though soothing a severely distressed youngling. The irony of the words was not lost on the young enforcer. "There's no need for dat." He gestured towards the gun still aimed at him, his smile quirking further into a grin. "Ah jus' wanna talk is all."

Still Prowl did not move, did not waver in his gaze nor stance, his face did not so much as twitch, but he did send out a request for back up.

_Headquarters. This is officer Prowl. I have the suspect cornered at Section 15, interstate 3, northwest. Requesting backup._

Silence, and that- sent a cool chill up the enforcer's spinal strut. Something wasn't right.

_Headquarters, come in Iacon Headquarters. This is officer Prowl. Requesting backup. Please respond._

Realization settled over Prowl as he caught the glint of the amusement that raced through the smaller bot's expression, a cold, heavy feeling bunkering down in his tanks, leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

Signal disrupter. Prowl hissed inwardly, casting a wary glance to the bot across the way from him. He'd expected something like this.

A pop up flashed on his visual display, warning of internal systems activation, the feel of mechanisms shifting in his chassis, slow but precise, and just like that, the small spy cam in his headlight began recording this encounter; for future reference, and if needed, documented proof of his innocence should this bot attempt to coerce him into affiliation.

This was a very unpredictable bot after all, and Prowl couldn't take chances.

In the distance, sirens blared ever closer.

"Ah don't think ya wanna do dat Prowl." He opened a panel on his arm plating, revealing an intricate network of wires and flashing dials. "See this. It's meh trackin' system." His grin widened, visor flashing. "For Nightwatch." The dials flashed, and Prowl understood what it was he was seeing.

_Does he know?_ Prowl's optic ridge furrowed, his lips tightening to an unpleasant frown, not liking where this was going in the least. Cold dread settled uneasily over his frame. _So, this is the kind of mech he is._

The sirens moved nearer, a mere few miles away.

An easy smirk graced those ominous lips. "One flick of meh fing'a-" A knowing look was sent to the blaster. "- Or unexpected jolt, an' Nightwatch an' whatev'a area he's around gets blow sky high. Ya dig?" A pleasant tingle lingered in his fingers as he watched those cold, calculating optics assessing him, something profound and fiery hidden just behind the enforcer's blue optics.

Had Prowl been a lesser bot, he may have given some indication as to the relief he felt knowing his hidden camera hadn't been discovered, but since he was not, no such indication was evident.

The sirens moved off, moving further and further from the pair. It was a blow for the young enforcer, but he did not let the disappointment show.

He had a feeling the mech before would use such a show of weakness to his advantage.

The Meister motioned towards the still raised blaster, an expectant tilt of his helm, smirk turning playful and knowing, and Prowl reluctantly lowed the weapon, knowing he could not risk the lives of this city's people. For now, he would just have to indulge this bot's antics.

Tense, but maintaining a professionally outward aloofness, Prowl watched as the silver bot closed the panel on his arm and cast him a bright smile, one that would have had any other bot fooled had they not known what this bot was capable of. Just the sight of such a disarmingly charming smile put the enforcer even more on edge, knowing that had this bot approached him in any normal circumstances, he'd probably never have known how dangerous this bot was.

This was not a promising indication as to the potential for others like this bot to be hidden amongst the general public.

Prowl's pride writhed, his frame heating a degree or so. If the other noticed, he didn't call the enforcer out on it. However, Prowl was not sure whether or not that was a blessing, or an indication as to the others intentions.

The silver bot suddenly held out his hand in offering, smile still in place, though notably darker, even sinister, and Prowl almost flinched at the unexpected action. Almost, being the key word. As it was though, he did cast the outstretched appendage a wary glance, assessing this bot's possible intentions.

Not many were in his favor, with an expression like that.

"Walk with meh." And when Prowl cast his gaze back to the bot's face, his expression lightened again by the slightest degree, almost soothing, even with that obscuring visor concealing much of his face. "Ah'd like ta get ta know ya."

Prowl looked to the bot's hand again, recognizing the gesture for what it was, and felt a part of himself scorn the notion. Pride reared its monstrous head in the enforcer's psyche, and though he tried to push it aside, some unfathomable force prevented him from doing so.

He was not some youngling who needed comfort.

Pride hurt, though he'd probably never admit to that, he brushed off the gesture, and though he saw the briefest flash of dark emotion glint ominously in the smaller bot's expression, he ignored it and gestured instead for them to set in motion.

"Given the circumstances. It would seem I don't have much of a choice in the matter." He said gravely, though with less inflection than was normal for such a situation. "Please, lead the way."

A particular look crossed the Meister's features, his posture held just so with his clawed hands steady and his legs angled in a position of readiness, expression neither open nor closed, but guarded as he looked to the other with his unblinking visor.

"There's always a choice lil' Praxian." Then his expression lightened again, and Prowl was certain he'd have to defrag his processors after having been in the presence of this emotional roller coaster of a mech before him.

However, in those words Prowl noted something that he hadn't before, a kind of dignity that was not unpleasant in nature, almost sane, respectable even. "Profound words." He commented, though if he was honestly impressed he did not let it show.

Something flashed across that white visor, but Prowl was unable to identify it before it was gone. For reasons unknown, this unidentified emotion unsettled Prowl more then he'd ever care to admit.

"Nah, it's da truth." The silver bot leaned in as he spoke, uncomfortably close, optics dimming, and though Prowl felt unnervingly exposed when he did not move away, he felt that he was not meant to yield to this display of intimacy.

"Ah think ya jus' like meh." The Meister grinned again, disturbingly content, almost fondly. He slipped his hand close to the enforcer's, a single, sharp claw tracing an exposed wire tenderly. "Don't worry, ah like ya too."

A frown crossed the enforcer's lips. "We've only just met." He pulled his hand away, discontent to allow the other such easy assess to him, even in a situation such as this. His pride would not allow it.

_What is he playing at?_ Prowl thought suspiciously. _Surely he cannot have an attachment to a bot he has not met before._

An amused look crossed the other's expression. "And yet ya still gonna follow meh."

Had Prowl not had the self control he did, he might of snapped at the other for being so nonchalant about this whole situation, but he did have control over himself, and so let it pass with easy grace.

"Yes." He agreed instead, before leveling the other with a cold look. "For the good of this city and the citizens I am charged with protecting."

Another mysterious expression crossed the silver bot's expression, obscured by the visor, something not quite sinister, but not benevolent either, almost- hurt. "Yeah. Ah know." He looked away, and Prowl was suddenly struck with this feeling of discomfort.

When the silver bot looked to him again, his visor was bright despite his blank expression. "Let's go." With that he began to walk away, stopping only briefly to watch the other and ensure he was coming.

After a moment's hesitation, Prowl followed after, but kept his distance, still cautious of the others unexpected shifts in mood. His battle computer provided him with possibilities as to the future actions of this bot, but none seemed very accurate in accordance to what he was witnessing.

It did not take long for Prowl to realize that they weren't heading to any one particular place. They simply kept going, sometimes stopping so the Meister could closer examine something of interest, or turning down an alley when the sounds of sirens came too close.

It was almost- innocent.

Silence settled over them, uncomfortable and tense on the enforcer's part, but as Prowl finally began to piece the puzzle together, these unusual behaviors of the silver bot, he began to realize that maybe, just maybe, he'd discovered what this bot was seeking.

It would only take one honestly answered question to finally discover the mystery of this bot's motives.

Finally, and despite knowing the possible risk of posing such a question, Prowl broke the silence. "If the tracking chips in Nightwatch and Roadblock's processors are the same, then you've had the opportunity to use the explosive in Roadblock's chip to destroy Enforcer's Headquarters for a while now since he is no longer of use to you. Why then have you not taken the opportunity?"

The Meister stopped from his inspection of a music download displayed in the shop window, turning to cast his piercing white gaze to the enforcer accompanying him. That mysterious look was settled across his expression again, one obscured by that Primus damned visor.

Then he tilted his helm, and frowned. "It was nev'a meh intention ta kill ya Prowl." He frowned deeply, before a small, just there smile crossed his lips. "If ah'd of done dat, then ya could've offlined, an' ah like ya too much for dat." _An' ya look just like dat enforcer from before._ But that went unsaid. "Ya special Prowl."

_Ya look jus' like him._ That's what this bot had said when they first laid optics on each other

It was then that Prowl finally knew for certain what was happening.

A feeling of unease once more crept into his circuits, and Prowl almost pitied the bot before him. _He's projecting the likeness of another onto me._ And as Prowl knew from endless studies into the matter- _This will not end well._

* * *

**AN:** Oh no, angst! Well, now we see more of the inner workings of Jazz's and a little bit of Prowl's psyches, and also more of the conflicts that will come to shape their _relationship_ in future chapters to come.

**Please review…**


	6. Paths

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN: **Thank you to all those who've been reviewing. It makes me so happy, and encourages me to continue especially now that I'm just settling into college and am trying to make time for fanfiction. Please enjoy!

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. There is a poll on my profile which asks what form of interface should be in this story. Please vote so I know what you would all prefer to read about. Thank you!

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 6: Paths**

* * *

_It was nev'a meh intention ta kill ya Prowl._

_Ya special Prowl._

That's what he'd said that day, under the light of a towering city and the warm pavement smooth beneath their peds, and Prowl had responded the only way he logically could.

Truthfully.

_I'm not who you've associated me to be, nor do I intend to act as such._

And the silver bot had smiled, that true, terrifying smile of his.

_Ah know, but ya close enough._

That- had left a bitter taste in Prowl's mouth, but what could he say to that? It was cruel, those words, but honest in an unsettling kind of way, and Prowl had shoved down his feelings of offence to instead study the other.

Understanding was key after all.

However, what Prowl found, was not what he'd expected.

The small bot had seemed almost- lost, and in a moment of uncertainty, with the silver bot's expression so vulnerable and his frame so small beside his own, Prowl could of sworn he was in the presence of a youngling.

That image would haunt him for the deca-cycles to come.

* * *

"It has been four orbital-cycles since this case began, and neither Nightwatch nor Meister has made an appearance since the Meister's disappearance at Section 13, interstate 2, construction district." The Chief announced solemnly, his sharp optics taking measure of his officers. "For now, we must put this case aside in favor of more pressing matters. We do not have the capabilities to continue pursuit of this mech as well as battle the rapidly increasing viral wars taking place across the planet."

Beside his chief, Prowl remained motionless, his blue optics focused, even as his processor raced at the indication of such words.

_Failure_, his processor provided him, _you have failed your captain and your district. There is no excuse_. His optics dimmed just slightly, to an eerie shade of cobalt.

There was nothing to be done though, for he knew, as did the others in the Iacon division, that they could not afford to waste their efforts on a case that had run cold for so long. They just did not have the numbers nor the time, even within their specialty divisions.

So lost in his musings as he was, he nearly jumped when a hand fell heavily on his shoulder. As it was though, he merely turned his refocused gaze towards his chief, question clear in the motion of his optic ridge.

Prowl anticipated he'd be told he'd done good, for an upstart, but that he was to return to Praxus to complete his mentoring under Captain Clearview. It would only be logical, given his behavior with the silver bot all that time ago.

When he thought back on the incident, he could see how rash his choice of action had been. Purposely organizing a meeting with a notoriously unstable and unpredictable bot had not been what many would call, _a good idea_, despite the wealth of information it had provided the case team with- information that would ultimately prove to be useless.

However, Prowl could not find it in himself to regret the choice, which, once again, unnerved him with the near apathy he felt towards the judgments of those not his superior.

…_your call._

It had been his call, and he'd failed. That, he did feel uncomfortable with.

The chief leveled him with an even stare. "Prowl. You have been an asset to this district in ways you may not have fully acknowledged, or been acknowledged for." His cool gaze slid meaningfully over a few of his advisers, some of which had the decency to look ashamed. "I've requested of Captain Clearview that you be permitted to remain here and assist in the Red Viral case."

That- had not been what Prowl was expecting. The young enforcer frowned, but just noticeably so.

"Chief Straightshot, with all due respect, may I ask what Captain Clearview's response was?" A dark thing of great weight settled in Prowl's tanks as he awaited an answer, wanting to know of Clearview's decision, almost needing to know.

Would he be rejected for this failure?

Unlikely, given Clearview's nature.

Would his mentor immediately request his presence back in Praxus to complete his training?

A possible, and an honestly not so undesirable, outcome.

Chief Straightshot settled a calculated look over Prowl's features, searching. "He said it was your call." He ensnared Prowl's gaze then with a sharp look, its weight suggesting great depth. "And that you have passed his requirements. He has nothing else to teach you. You are your own bot as of this orn."

The heavy weight only seemed to constrict tighter, a deeply carved void in his frame.

What should he have been feeling at this development? Excited? Wary? Abandoned? Relieved?

Maybe, but he did not feel particularly excited about his promotion, nor wary of this change, nor abandoned by his captain, nor relieved by his newfound freedom, and it was a conflicting of wants and deep felt desires that did not sit well with the young enforcer.

…_your call._

Why was he feeling so out of sorts with this new freedom of choice now, when he had enjoyed the privilege not so long ago? What was so different?

_What do I want?_ That was the question that now plagued Prowl, and he realized in that moment, he'd never actually stopped to think about what he'd wanted- as an individual without expectation or guidance of another, without a superior to point the way.

For the first time, he was being told to choose his own goal.

How strange.

Hesitation: it was only for a moment, but Straightshot caught it, as he was wont to do, and acted on it. "Officer Prowl, I request that you assist in the Red Viral case." Another flicker of emotion flickered across the chief's expression, one not so unkind, but never to be lenient in design. "Your skills would be most beneficial in furthering our investigations."

_Here, in front of all these officers. To be asked that here, of all places._ Prowl pondered warily, staring deep into the chief's unmovable gaze. _Even at the cost of his pride, should I refuse?_

How could he turn down an offer from someone he so respected, in the presence of that bot's own division, knowing to refuse without just cause would be to scorn him publicly.

His decision was made, the moment he'd been asked.

"If this is the case, then I accept your request. It will be an honor working with you further, sir." And it would be an honor working with him, as it had since the beginning, but still, the dark weight in the young enforcer's frame did not lessen.

Straightshot nodded, pleased with that and unwilling to question further the other's distant gaze, and the enforcers of the Iacon base were relieved as well, and welcomed Prowl more fully into their midst's.

But Prowl, still didn't know what to feel with this new development.

…_your call._

Maybe, Prowl had taken those words too lightly.

* * *

The shadowed edges of Cybertron's underworld was not a place to be taken lightly, for it was there that the monsters of society played their wicked games and smiled cruel smiles. It was there too, that the Meister played his own games.

A key was flicked into a barrel, and the bot above watched it disappear into the murky depth with widened optics.

"Ya know. It woulda' been easi'a had ya jus' given meh da files." The silver bot said playfully, almost singing the words as he leaned casually against the wall beside him.

His chassis swelled with warm, buzzing excitement as emotion after emotion crossed the other's optics, all but flooding across the half concealed expression.

Quick, nimble claws fingered at the edges of the datafiles softly, that intense white visor staring up at the bot hanging above him, helm tilting just so. A grin slid disarmingly across his lips, his visor flashing subtly in amusement.

His arm rose, his hand resting just beside him. "Ya know, its rude ta not answ'a when spoken ta." That grin widened sinisterly, almost painfully. "Ah might jus' be tempted ta-"

The hanging bot panicked, crying out into the gag as he was suddenly dropped closer to the vat of potent acid just feet from his helm, struggling against his bonds for all he was worth as he stopped just inches from the churning liquid below. His muffled pleas were mere whimpers to the cybertronian audio receptor.

The Meister thought it was kind of cute.

"Hn, what's that?" The small bot taunted, hand tightening on the level beneath his fingers. "Speak up." But they both knew it was a useless endeavor, for the poor fellow hanging by his peds over his potential death, could scream no louder than he'd already tried.

That doesn't mean he didn't try again.

A delighted expression beamed bright across the silver bot's face. "Sorry, but dat was ya last try." A curled his lips tightly. "Bye."

The click of a lever released, the splash of metal meeting liquid.

The bot writhed from within the fluids encasing him, screaming into the gag and kicking out at the transparent barrel's sides, only to stop short when he realized- it didn't hurt.

The Meister fell over in laughter when the bot finally stopped struggling. "Ya shoulda seen ya face." His chassis heaved with the exertion, and he struggled to vent in air.

Such childish cruelty.

The shaking, terrified bot managed to get his bearings and pull himself out of the barrel, coming to stand unsteadily beside the drum before he stared over to the slowly calming bot before him, his optics clearly not at all amused by the _joke_.

After the silver bot managed to calm down enough to right himself, he picked himself off the ground and swaggered over to the now sticky bot with the flare he was so known for in the lower levels. He ignored the way the other backed up a step, taking the tense atmosphere in stride.

"Come on, meh mech. It was jus' a joke." He chirped soothingly at the sight of the other's guarded look, wanting to ease the troubled expression. "Ah wasn't gonna hurt ya. Besides, ah could hear ya jus' fine." At the other's confused look, the smaller bot explained. "Ah have enhanced hearin'." A dark emotion crossed the still bound and gagged bot's expression at that admission, but it was easily disregarded by the silver bot.

It crossed the silver bot's mind that what he'd done might have been a bit much, but he cast the thought aside when it made him feel uncomfortable. It wasn't worth feeling bad about after all. It wasn't like he'd hurt the bot in any way.

"So." The Meister began after a brief pause. "Are ya gonna get da keys ta ya bonds are are ya makin' a fashion statement. 'Cause ya kinda look good chained an' gagged, ya know. Almost tempts a mech."

With a glare, the bot made to turn and retrieve the keys, but was stopped short when another key was shoved into his palm. He glared down at the smaller bot suspiciously, clearly not holding the bot in his favor at all.

"Jus' kiddin' again. Dat is da key ta ya locks." A grin spread across the smaller's face. "An' da one in there is da key ta da crate with ya credits."

Stiffly, the taller bot nodded, before struggling to release himself from the bonds with the key continuously sticking in the sticky paste clinging to his fingers. The Meister watched this for awhile, before he chose to speak up again as he opened up the datafiles.

"Ya know, dat really was acid, mild, but still acid."

The bot froze.

"An' dat key is pretty thin."

The taller, sticky, and highly stressed bot turned his gaze towards the silver bot flipping casually through the files and felt a part of himself snap, fall and shatter at the pit of his spark. Had he been a bot who'd not known cruelty the way he did, he probably would have broken down and cried or blindly attacked the bot before him. As it was, he merely walked to the barrel and gathered the thankfully still intact, if slightly smaller, key.

"Ah didn't know Nightwatch had two broth'as."

The taller bot merely held the keys to his chassis, and walked away slowly.

Thankfully, the silver bot didn't seem to care.

* * *

**AN:** Jazz, you don't play very nice with others! And poor Prowl is finally entering full on independence, which truthfully, is actually kind of scary at first (Speaking from personal experience.).

**Please review…**


	7. Fate

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**AN: **It's been far too long, but as always, thank you all for the reviews! Sorry for the late update, but life takes priority over fanfiction I'm afraid. Anyway, as you've probably noticed I took out much of the clutter up here in the pre-story space. It actually forces me to write more because when I do word count the numbers are so small I just have to keep going. I'm compulsive that way at times. Enjoy!

* * *

**Psycho**

**CH 7: Fate**

* * *

Prowl was an exceptional tactician, swift of processor and cool of temper, but he was also a young bot with passion to do good in his spark. The evidence of this was not so hard to observe when one knew what to look for, and Straightshot, being who he was and having lived as he had, knew just what to look for.

He saw it in Prowl, the drive, the way the young enforcer sought to solve every case that entered headquarters, stayed late into the night cycle trying to get to every file despite the already overwhelming workload the Red Viral case itself presented.

In short, he saw that Prowl wanted results, results that were not so readily achieved.

Prowl himself knew this, that the entirety of Cybertron could not be cleansed of crime and things unjust in just a few cycles- and logically he knew this _cleansing_ of injustice would likely never be, for the nature of crime was not something that could be deleted so long as sentience remained- but his spirit was still young, and logic never much pertained to matters of the spark. So Prowl struggled, with his logic and his passion, each day knowing that the world would never cease the endless line of cases growing steadily across his desk, but always hoping against all hope.

_Maybe today, I'll finally get this paperwork done._

But he knew, this was never to be.

Slowly, a shift begun to take place in Prowl, and it rapidly began to fasten its hold as the cycles passed, taking with it the youth of the young enforcer, the eagerness and awkwardness of a bot just beginning to find his place in the world.

In time, Prowl succumbed to the change with a willing spark and ready mind, and he became, as he would later come to realize, cold in manner.

However, even the loss of his smile never once dimmed the light in his optics.

He just sometimes forgot it, when he wasn't looking.

* * *

Sometimes, when he'd been idle for far too long, the silver bot felt a cool sensation flitter across the hollows of his frame, a deep-rooted malcontent for the way of things. Sometimes, when he forgot, he even felt regret, but most of all, he became angry- so very angry.

But still, his optics remained steady and his frame motionless, a looming presence from high within the city's endless night, hidden deep in the bowls of Cybertron. His domain, his place of thought and comfort, and the closest thing to home he knew.

Even he, in his moments of contemplation, when the joys of the chase and the pleasures of the city ceased to amuse him, knew it was kind of pathetic, the way in which he lived. This was only a passing thought though, and so he would merely wait for it to pass, claws clicking against steel beams and optics watching the busy bots below. Then the moment would pass and his world would be bright once more, filled with new delights, some old, and some he'd yet to discover.

He loved those moments the most, when everything came back into focus.

Like now, with a box in his hands and a grin on his face- a very dark, amused grin.

With fluid grace and a distinctly loose style of leaps and spins the silver bot descended from his shadowed perch, soundless and agile, a flicker of light before it faded to obscurity. His systems running silent, not a whisper nor hum. He landed effortlessly in an alley, his entrance, his very presence so smooth not even the small cyber feline rummaging through stacks of empty cubes was startled by it.

He ran a quick rub over the feline's slender back before he waltzed out into the flashing lights of the city streets, sinful grin on his lips and an all too knowing glint in his optics. He had everything going for him, and he knew it.

The world was his playground again.

His stride, his bearing, his casual sprawl and lazy ease spoke volumes of his familiarity with this life of late night activities behind secret walls and exclusive parties. He oozed the right kind of sex appeal, the most addicting kind of confidence, wild, single and on the hunt.

Only, it wasn't the kind of hunting the bright-opticed pleasure drones and leering bots were looking for. His was downright deadly, in the strictest sense of the word.

He was giddy with anticipation.

His claws rubbed delicately, tenderly, across the small box in his grasp, his smirk softening just the tiniest bit to something almost resembling a smile.

Sadly, it looked so very pleasant on his face.

* * *

It had been a long cycle, with his younger brother still on the run from an infamous mad mech and his cover as an Iacon enforcer blown, Spearhead had had his hands full of loose ends that needed closing and mouths that needed shutting. He'd had enforcers to bribe, ruffled clients to appease, and more importantly, assets to hide, those assets being Nightwatch himself.

He may have failed that particular mission, but his skills as a whole were still valuable, despite the minor setback.

The sequence of bribery and aft-kissery he'd had to use to stabilize the situation had not been the way he'd wanted to spend his cycle, but it had been important, and if he was anything, he was to the point. Which is probably why he'd been suspicious when a mysterious package showed up in his room, small and clean and just sitting so obviously on his berth.

Far too obvious to be from anyone he knew.

He examined it, casting a critical, white optic over the flat, pristine surfaces, the way in which it gleamed so readily in the lights overhead. It was small, about the size of a minibot's palm, and he could have easily wrap his fist around it had he wanted. It was during his search that he found a small slip of data steaming along the bottom.

He picked up the box cautiously, tilted it and read the message.

_Yer brotha' left this at meh place back at Iacon. Thought ya'd want it._

* * *

"Oh, Nightwatch, when will you learn?" The silver bot cooed delightedly as he leaned against the support beam of the sky rise, looking down into the lighted window of the apartment he'd slipped out from not so long ago.

As he watched the bot within lift the box and turn it slightly to read the message beneath, the panel on his arm popped open, revealing the dials, their flashing indicating the closeness of the target.

He activated them, a grin spreading across his face.

His optics darkened as he leaned down over the edge, calling out to the bot below. "Ya broth'a be seein' ya real soon, ya hear?"

It was as the other's face turned up to meet his gaze and morphed into shocked realization that the box clicked.

In an instant an explosion rocked the entire complex, sending it down in a heap of screams and flames, windows blowing out as the layers of floors collapsed downward in a devastating stacking effect. The sky became aflame in violent hues of red and orange as fire shot into the air, propelled by igniting gas pipes.

The Meister laughed in delight, silhouette aglow in the rising light of the smoldering structure, silver frame reflecting the darkest shade of black and white visor shimmering the deepest crimson under the eerie glow of fire.

In that moment, he truly looked every bit as wild as his spark.

* * *

It was all over the news, the explosion that had caused the collapse of Kalis's Siton Tower in the dead of night. It spoke of untold casualties and the single image of a bot shrouded in black, standing before the flames with his helm thrown back and half his visor glowing crimson, the other eerie white.

At the sight of the image upon the overhead screen in Prowl's office, Straightshot had all but punched a hole clear through the praxian's desk, temporarily startling the younger bot and knocking a datapad from the table, his usual composed conduct having slipped for a brief moment. It took a moment, but he finally managed to gather his bearings after a deep intake.

He softly apologized to Prowl for his unsightly outburst as he picked up the fallen datapad from the floor.

Prowl merely nodded, slow and deliberate.

"It would seem our fates cross once more with that mad mech." The chief said with deliberate indifference, trying to distance himself after having displayed too much emotion over the antics of the silver menace. "I don't know whether to be keen on the idea of being able to bring him to justice now that we have a lead on him once more, or livid that he's become active again."

"Neither sir. " Prowl said with perfect professionalism, continuing to study the image before him with his sharp, calculating optics. "We apprehend him and punish him for his crimes against the citizens. We need not express partialness in such obligations."

Straightshot sent a knowingly concerned optic towards his newest officer, having been becoming more than slightly worried with the way in which the young enforcer was rapidly beginning to cut himself off from any emotional attachment, not distancing as was expected, but actually cutting off from it. "We are all bots Prowl, and not without passion."

Prowl didn't even pause his evaluation of the image as he addressed his chief. "I am not without passion. I simply do not wish to be ruled by it." He picked up a datapad over to his left. "I believe this was his intended target."

The chief took the pad and briefly glanced over it, knowing Prowl would elaborate. "Spearhead?"

Prowl nodded again. "He is Nightwatch's elder brother and the mech most likely to be hiding him from the authorities. However, there is no evidence of such activities other than he's had past involvement with such dealings before." Straightshot gave Prowl a slightly suspicious look, and Prowl understood it's meaning well.

Had he acquired this information before or after the Meister case had been put on hold.

Prowl played ignorant to the look though and Straightshot did not question it further. So long as the praxian got his work done, to each his own.

After the briefest of moments, Prowl spoke again. "I have done further analysis on the Meister and have come to a plausible reason for his sudden strike after so long of inactivity."

The chief inclined his helm for Prowl to continue, and the young enforcer did so without pause.

"I believe this was not only an act of vengeance on the Meister's part, but a ploy to draw out Nightwatch. If I am correct, the fact that a bot of the Meister's character took interest in a bot of Spearhead's background means he had a personal connection to him, likely Nightwatch. This seems to point to the fact that the Meister had failed to locate Nightwatch and is looking to draw him out. The Meister has been shown to operate on a personal level, doing nothing that will not somehow benefit himself, and that includes killing innocents. Despite his unstable nature, he has not been shown to be without compassion or reason."

Prowl pulled out another datapad from his subspace, and though the fact that Prowl carried the thing around with him only heightened Straightshot's suspicion as to the young enforcer's activities on his off duty cycles, he remained silent on the matter.

"This is the mech I believe will be his next target. His designation is Ironhide. He is Nightwatch's younger brother and the only of the three to not have direct involvement in underground activities."

A distinct gleam of surprised recognition flicker in the chief's optics as he took in the high-definition image before him. "Ironhide? The young Prime's personal guard?"

"Yes."

The chief leveled Prowl with a cold, serious look reminiscent to the first time Prowl had implied possible traitors within the enforcer ranks. "You are saying the Prime may very well be in danger due to his bodyguard's involvement in all this? Prowl, this is serious. Are you absolutely sure Ironhide will be his next target?"

Prowl nodded, expression set. "92% sure, sir."

Straightshot continued to stare Prowl straight in the optic, cold and unmoving, but Prowl was just as immovable, meeting his icy gaze without fail, without a single twitch of his blank expression.

"Very well." Straightshot straightened to a stand, giving Prowl one last nod before he headed for the door, pad in hand.

He stopped just at the threshold, looking back as he spoke. "This will either make your career, or destroy it. Are you willing to accept that?"

Without hesitation, Prowl spoke. "Yes."

And with that, Straightshot was gone.

When the door had finally shut and firmly locked, all the energy seemed to drain from Prowl's frame and his wings just perceivably drooped. His optics shuttered shut and he rubbed his face to sooth the rising ache.

Then a thought suddenly occurred to him.

The Meister was still looking for Nightwatch, but that day he'd met with the silver bot he'd said he'd had a tracking system on Nightwatch and had coerced the praxian into his company via way of civilian threat. He'd disappeared the day after their meeting, meaning he probably went to go find Nightwatch.

Why is he still looking for him if Nightwatch has a tracking device on him?

Unless-

Prowl kicked under his desk- hard.

* * *

**AN:** Jazz! Bad boy! Stop terrorizing the public and looking so outrageously fine while doing it. Oh Prowl, your OCD is showing Mr. I can't drop the case because it's not done yet. I miss writing them in all their craziness so much. I absolutely love them!

**Please review…**


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